i love the soft crack-hiss sound of flare guns being fired and falling through the sky. it's like the whisper version of a firework. it's strangely comforting in spite of the context of being in distress that it usually implies.

your own personal angel

Be not afraid. Help is coming.

I beg I’m all aboard the headcanon that sonic still believes that Tom and Maddie are just friends to him despite being treated like they’re kid

Photographing a cat will never be the same

I've made this one a while ago and almost completely forgot about it so uuuuh, there ya go

eagle: so what do you think about stigmata

prometheus: you know we're in a pre-christian myth, right? like that word doesn't exist yet. your dumb joke is anachronistic.

eagle: stigma talons in your flesh

Corpse Dance